Vocal Lesson 1: try to sound like Whitney Houston

Whitney.

I am still so sad and stunned to know that she is gone. It just doesn't feel real to me. Whitney Houston was a Goddess in my eyes all throughout my childhood. Her big beautiful voice was my single biggest musical inspiration growing up and it echos in my own sound today.

When I was just getting started in Boston about 9 or 10 years ago I met a few times with Whitney's former manager (he launched her career and managed her first ten years). He thought that I might make a great "Whitney for today" and wanted to work with me.

I thought so carefully about it, and I backed away from the prospect in the end. First I thanked him so much (I was way beyond flattered) but I didn't feel that her particular career path was one that I should follow. It didn’t seem to add up to happiness from my perspective.

My friends and family thought I was possibly making a huge mistake... but felt sure, and I felt it very deeply. Where they saw fame and fortune, I saw isolation, restrictions and unhealthy pressure. It all seemed so lonely. How could any artist really bloom in that kind of environment? I see the same thing again and again blatantly on display via reality shows like American Idol.

...look this way. move this way. stand this way. sing this way. dance this way. make more money...

And there is this blatant double standard: Be authentic -vs- Be what I want you to be.

It’s an impossibility. Ask "Lana Del Rey".

It is way too easy to stray from ones own authentic path- To make decisions based on the needs and wants of many who do not have your own best interests in mind. To push oneself toward an imbalanced and unrealistic image of perfection.

I can only hope that more people begin to recognize this madness and let go of the the things that drive us to speed up when we need to slow down. That we may all begin to listen to our hearts and see that we can and should enjoy our own path. That we may learn to love and trust ourselves.

I was 8 years old when I sang “The Greatest Love of All” at my Godfathers engagement party. I wanted so much to sound like Whitney. I tried with all of my little girl might to capture the confidence and strength in her voice. It could surely move mountains. There was so much LOVE in there. So much love.

May that love carry on in all of our hearts.
May we all strive to share it. 
May it grow and continue to grow forever.


Rest in Peace Whitney Houston.

laughing at clouds so dark up above

My Grandfather is the strongest guy I know.

Orphaned during the Great Depression, He fought in WWII and won a purple heart.

He sings to my grandmother now. And he cooked last thanksgiving dinner.

Today his body is tired- (he was born in 1918) but his light seems so much brighter than ever.  Stronger.

Poppi used to scare me when i was little- he would yell loud and he meant it.

Heavens to Betsy- he would shake his head- why would you sit inside and watch TV on a Saturday afternoon? GO OUTSIDE AND PLAY.

We went on road trips- and they were no joke.  The Adirondack mountains. Trailer hookups and peanut better sandwiches. Water rides, and fools gold. Baseball cards and solitaire.

He taught me how to drive stick. And to live my life. And that the trick to it is a good laugh, a good song, and fresh wild flowers. (and if all fails, a very tall glass of scotch)

I love sitting with him now- big smile on his face, and one on mine.  I have learned well. He beams. 

Then he asks me if I would sing for him at his funeral. I died inside and told him that I would gladly sing for him any day of the week. And I broke into "Singin' in the Rain" in the Emergency room at Columbia Memorial.

1975-1990 = forever.

My big brother was an angel here on earth.

He was only here for 15 years, but to me it was forever.

Eternity in an instant. He taught me that. endlessly rising up despite darkness or fear.
Laughter in the face of sickness
Laughter in the face of death.

He has given me the ultimate gift. light and love through and through. There is nothing else.

In that realization, I recognize his eternity, and my own. And I am so grateful.
Grateful to have known him, and grateful to know this life.

Thank you Quincy, I will love you always.

To pick or pick not.

At the center of my crossroads grows a daisy. I want it.
and want to be it.

The wind blows and it waves.

I so desire to be the flower. I even strive to be like it in this form of flesh and bones. And that doesn't mean just waving in the wind without purpose.

The flower has more directed purpose than I've ever had, or have ever seen in another human being. Every single day of it's life it strives with all of it's might towards the sun.

The result of this stretching is creation itself. It is magic in a land of rules and walls.

When i strive with every breath I take, with great directed purpose towards that which nourishes me I grow. And who I was just a moment before dies away.

I drop this old shed skin when I rest; when I allow my body to fully exhale and let go.
If I do not rest- I carry around this shell of my former self with me everywhere i go. And my old perceptions linger and haunt me like ghosts.

Someday will be my last. And on that day I want to breath my final breath while striving with all my heart towards the sun as I lay my body down. Otherwise, I might collapse prematurely by the weight of all the dead flowers.

And so I will leave the daisy today to pay homage to it's singular beauty. I want to symbolize it's message of peace.

But deep down I know that tomorow may be another story. I will strive. And i will strive to be less distracted... and to remember to strive.

I know another daisy will wave again at me. And the thought will arise...

"It's much easier to remember the daisy when there's one in your hand"

I will be reminded that am only human. And as long as I walk this path I will most again find my self at a crossroad again wondering... to pick or pick not.

That is the question.

Remember

I am a woman who is both of my time, and of the past.

I tend to grow nostalgic.

There is a sweetness in my faded photographs.

Reminders of the best of life.

I bring my camera to the beach.

I don't ever want to forget:

The feel of the wind and how it pushes at the water.
And how the water pushes at the rocks, and then they push onto each other.
And my body pushes into the sand.
And the sand pushes back.

nature and me; a neglected love affair ~

i love to be outside.

surrounded by the sounds of the birds and the bees and the wind through the trees.

whispering and seducing. encouraging me to stretch beyond myself, and reminding me not to fight against the wind.

something about the branches lifts me up which i really need. even here- i hit so many craters. 

and then they wave "look up!"

and i wonder why and how i let them go for so long.

theMErevolution

my life is beautiful- wild and turning. and rocky alot of the time. but this is exactly what i yearned for when i was growing up. i wanted intense love, and to travel. i wanted to create and evolve, and i wanted to be challenged.

i realize now that i have everything i ever wanted. and whenever i feel like i can't handle the turbulence- it dawns on me that maybe i can make myself stronger than i am. you know, i found myself this winter sleeping 9 or even 10 hours well into the afternoon... and still feeling spent when i woke. ~?? that's crazy! how is a girl who is completely exhausted ALL of the time supposed to take on the world?

i know that i've got alot of great things heading my way- and i have no choice but to get my act together... so here i am. ready.

i've been getting busy. really busy. hiking, yoga, good balanced organic food... good supplements, fresh juice and lots of holy basil tea. i've even been getting to sleep before the birds wake up, which is a miracle. and i'm starting to feel alot better. like my self.

next step- bring my self revolution with me on the road. (wish me luck!)
I'll be checking in and posting lots of pictures as i go along...

xXOoNicole